


The Shore

by AndyAO3



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, completely pointless cuteness, either way he's fun to write, not sure if my lavellan is weird because he's an elf, or because he's Dalish, or because he's himself, really it spawned from a drawing and went from there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:48:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2377043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndyAO3/pseuds/AndyAO3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach might be insane. Dorian also might love him a little for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shore

**Author's Note:**

> Oneshot. This was actually sort of written in two chunks; one a couple weeks ago when I started it and it tapered off, the second half just tonight when I got bored and decided to finish it based on a drawing I'd done. Originally it didn't actually have much plot, but it went and turned cuter than I expected it to. I blame Zach for being adorkable.
> 
> Go ahead and correct me if you find anything wrong with my geology, I'm a bit rusty.

If asked, Dorian would say that he had given up long ago on trying to understand what the Inquisitor might be thinking. But to himself, he was able to admit that this statement was an absolute lie. Because every time Zach did something that was more barmy than usual, he would catch himself wondering what in Andraste's name the reasoning behind the lanky elf's actions might be.

Most days, the answer he came up with was "to make Dorian question both their sanities", although that prompted its own string of questions. Such as whether Zach had possessed any sanity to begin with.

As he watched the Dalish elf carefully pull off his not-quite-boots - they had neither soles nor toes, and amounted to little more than leggings in Dorian's mind - and roll up his pant legs while eyeing the nearby lake, it was looking more and more like Zach and the concept of sanity rarely shared the same plane of existance.

"Please tell me he's not seriously considering going for a _swim_ ," the magister said, frowning severely at the rather tall elf.

Solas, who was a few meters off and tending to the task of setting up camp, looked up curiously from what he'd been doing. After observing the Inquisitor for a moment, he shrugged and went back to camp preparations. "If he were, he'd probably have stripped down a bit more," the hedge mage noted. "Why, do you worry for him?"

Dorian scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous." Of course he worried for the Inquisitor. "It's getting a bit late in the year for a swim, that's all, and I'll not have him running to me for healing when he catches pneumonia."

The older, elven mage quirked a sculpted eyebrow. "Well then. I see nothing keeping you from going over and telling him so yourself," he replied, and by his tone, the magister just _knew_ that Solas probably thought the pair of them childish.

Except, well, the hermit was _right_. There was little use in just standing there watching the object of his affections go and risk his health so carelessly. Sighing with exasperation, Dorian gave up on helping to set up camp entirely and marched over to go see what the Inquisitor was up to.

\---

Stones. Stones of all colors, all rounded by time and by the water's currents. Stones that glinted, stones that were dull. Stones that had a thousand inner facets, that no shemlen stonecutter would even bother with because of their perceived flaws.

The Dalish, Zach thought, knew better. His people worked with the stone, smoothing out the rougher edges, shaping them, bringing out the figures that were hidden inside with time and care. Even the most seemingly useless stones could be ground into a fine powder, so that the powder might coat a rag and then be used to smooth other stones into a proper shape.

Dorian would appreciate such a thing, he mused. A little dragon shaped from a stone, and not clumsily carved out with harsh tools as the shems might do. He could even fashion it into a little stone ring, with its tail curled around by its head. It would take work, and time, but Zach was fairly certain he could manage it. If he could find the right stone to do it with, at any rate.

"What in Andraste's name are you doing?"

Zach looked up at the sound of the Magister's voice, blinking as he straightened from where he'd been bent over looking at the stones hidden under the water. "Huh?"

Ah. Dorian was frowning. Usually that meant he was displeased. Although it was the worried frown, and not one of true annoyance or disappointment. "It's a hair's breadth above the point of freezing out, and yet you insist on this foolishness?"

Zach frowned right back. "It's fine. It's just water. Besides, it's not that cold."

"Cold enough for a fool elf to catch a chill," Dorian replied. Oh, he was folding his arms. Definitely a worried kind of disapproval, then. "Why in the name of all that is holy are you standing about in a lake, anyway? Swimming would make more sense, even if it would be a bit more _mental_ for you to try."

"I was--" Zach caught himself, and bit his lip. "...Nothing." A shem probably wouldn't get it if he tried to explain, anyway.

"Nothing, is it? Well, then. Don't come to _me_ for help when you inevitably catch a cold from this little unimportant venture of yours." And with that, Dorian huffed and turned to leave.

Zach's brow furrowed as he stared after the Magister. Before he knew it, his bare feet were carrying him across the shore and to the human's side, where he caught the man by the cloak. "Wait," he said.

The shem stopped in his tracks, sighed, and turned to face the Inquisitor with a look that said he was probably tired of Zach being strange and absurd. "All right, what is it?"

Creators, those eyes. The thought of losing himself in them was much too tempting, and he shook his head as if it might help him rid himself of the urge. "Um. Would you help me?" he asked, a little hesitant.

Dorian's nose wrinkled in that way it tended to when he was confused or thinking. "Help you with what?"

"With, um. Rocks." Zach gestured to the shoreline.

"...I'm afraid I don't follow, dear Inquisitor."

Right, he was being obscure again. Zach blew a puff of air at his own bangs, considered for a moment, and then took Dorian by the arm to pull him over to the water's edge.

Naturally, Dorian objected to being yanked around bodily. "What-- Lavellan! Maker's breath, man, what are you--"

Zach let go in favor of walking back into the shallows, bending down and scooping up a few of the better-looking stones he'd spotted. Once he'd gathered them, he stood up again and returned to Dorian's side, just so that he could take the human's hand and plop the wet, rounded stones into it.

Dorian glanced down at the stones, then up again to give Zach a funny look. "Really, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with these."

"I'm not..." Zach sighed again, and bowed his head to stare pointedly at his exposed toes. "You have your stone carvings, but they're all so clumsy and rough. And you waste so much when you carve them, great big lumps of the stone just chipped away and discarded."

"Well, yes. One has to work with the faults in the material, otherwise it will crack along the fault line." The mage did seem to understand what Zach was thinking, however. "Lavellan, I'm no stonemason, but I'm fairly sure these are too small to carve into anything interesting. It would take too much effort trying to find and work around the faults. There would be nothing left but dust and the smallest of pebbles, I'm certain."

Zach frowned hard. Dorian understood, but he also didn't. "I'll manage," he said. "Just, you know things. Which one would you pick, out of curiosity?"

Sighing, Dorian took a moment to examine the stones in his hand, turning them over and holding some of them up to the light to squint at them. After a couple of minutes he shrugged and handed back a greenish, transluscent stone about the size of a small dumpling. "Here, this one is some sort of fluorite. Notice that it changes color in the sun? Originally it would've been more of a square shape, but erosion from the lake has probably-- well, that's probably not what you're asking at all, is it?"

No, but it was a relief to have something to go on, and it was always nice to see Dorian get animated about something. "It's fine," Zach said, taking it with a faint little smile. "What do you like about it?"

"Oh, well. Usually we use some form of quartz, topaz, or garnet as a casting focus. Something clear, you know? Something consistent. Fluorite makes for an interesting counter-example, since it tends to be much more chemically varied. When it's used as a focus, it can have the most fascinating sort of results because of the way the magic flows through the variances in the stone." Dorian chuckled, in a way that might've been a little bit nervous. "I hope I'm not boring you."

"You're not," the warrior replied immediately. It wasn't boring. He liked knowing things. The Keeper had just never quite bothered to teach him about the ways of the world as much as she'd taught her First. He smiled quickly, and reached up to touch Dorian's face to reassure him.

"Ack." Dorian, however, jerked away from his hand and smacked it away. "Your hands are like _ice_."

Oh. Right. "Sorry," he mumbled.

The magister clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You know, I'm sure Solas has a fire going by now. It would probably be wise for you to go warm yourself by it before you catch anything."

Zach nodded, and headed back as instructed. He was distracted enough by his wandering thoughts that he forgot his shoes; he only realized it after they were plopped into his lap because Dorian had noticed _for_ him and fetched them.

He wondered idly if his clan would kick him out for picking a shem as a mate.

 


End file.
